Cassian POV
I'm supposed to be seducing her.
That's the plan. That's always been the plan—seduce Thaddeus's perfect political bride, prove my brother isn't untouchable, collect 500 gold from the enforcers who bet I couldn't bed the "ice queen."
So why are my hands shaking as I hand Elowen a glass of wine?
"Thank you," she whispers, not meeting my eyes.
We're still in the library, moonlight painting her silver dress blue. She took the chair by the window. I took the one across from her—close enough to seem interested, far enough to not scare her away.
This should be easy. I've seduced plenty of she-wolves. Smile, compliment, touch at the right moments, and they melt.
But Elowen isn't melting. She's holding that wine glass like it's a shield, and I can see her mind working—calculating if this is safe, if I'm safe, if anything in her life will ever be safe again.
Eighteen months. I've watched her for eighteen months.
Watched her smile at pack dinners while Thaddeus ignored her. Watched her handle territory disputes my brother was too busy to manage. Watched her shrink smaller and smaller, like she was trying to disappear.
I told myself I didn't care. She was just another piece on Thaddeus's chessboard—a land merger with pretty packaging.
Then tonight, I saw her cry.
Something in my chest cracked open, and I haven't been able to close it.
"Why are you really here, Cassian?" Elowen asks suddenly, those storm-grey eyes finally meeting mine.
Because I made a bet. Because I resent my perfect brother. Because I'm the spare heir who needs to prove he matters.
"Because you looked like you needed a friend," I say instead.
It's not a lie. Not completely.
She laughs—sharp and bitter. "I'm your brother's mate. We can't be friends."
"Why not? He's clearly not filling that role."
"Don't." Her voice cracks. "Don't pretend you care about my feelings when you're just—"
"Just what?"
"I don't know! Bored? Looking for entertainment? Wanting to stick it to Thaddeus by corrupting his unwanted Omega?"
Every word hits like a punch because she's right. That's exactly what this started as.
But now?
"You think very little of yourself," I say quietly.
"The world taught me to."
She takes a sip of wine, and I watch her throat move. Something tightens in my stomach that has nothing to do with the bet.
"Tell me about your parents," I say, changing the subject before I do something stupid.
Her eyes widen. "What?"
"Your parents. The Miravels. Everyone talks about the land you inherited, but nobody talks about them."
For a moment, she just stares at me. Then, slowly, her guard drops.
"My mother was brilliant," she says softly. "She ran three territories' worth of trade routes from our dining room table. Taught me everything about pack politics, about reading people, about survival."
"And your father?"
"Strong. Steady. He loved my mother so much it made everyone else's bonds look fake." Her smile turns sad. "They died in a territory dispute two years ago. Border ambush. Nobody expected it."
"I'm sorry."
"Everyone's sorry. Nobody means it."
"I mean it."
Our eyes lock, and something passes between us—understanding, maybe. Recognition. Two people playing roles they never wanted.
"Your turn," she says. "Tell me what it's like being Thaddeus's shadow."
No one's ever asked me that. Not once in twenty-eight years.
"Exhausting," I admit. "He's the heir, the Alpha, the golden child. I'm just... there. The backup plan nobody needs."
"I'm the wolfless Omega nobody wants. We make quite the pair of disappointments."
She's smiling when she says it, but the pain underneath cuts deep.
"You're not a disappointment," I say.
"You don't know me."
"Then let me."
The words hang between us, heavier than I intended. Elowen sets down her wine glass, fingers trembling slightly.
"Why?" she whispers. "Why do you care?"
Because watching you break is breaking me. Because you deserve better than Thaddeus. Because somewhere between watching you for eighteen months and seeing you cry tonight, I started seeing you as more than my brother's unwanted mate.
But I can't say any of that. Not with the bet still echoing in my head. Not when I don't understand these feelings myself.
"Because someone should," I finally answer.
We talk for hours. She tells me about growing up wolfless, about the shame and the stares. I tell her about living in Thaddeus's shadow, always second-best. She laughs at my jokes—real laughs that light up her whole face. I make her smile so many times I lose count.
And slowly, the bet fades into background noise.
This isn't about proving anything to Thaddeus anymore. This isn't about 500 gold or breaking the ice queen.
This is about the brilliant, funny, devastatingly lonely woman sitting across from me who's been invisible for too long.
"I should go," she says eventually, standing. "Before someone notices—"
"Same time tomorrow?" The words escape before I can stop them.
Elowen freezes. "Cassian, we can't—"
"Please." I stand, crossing to her. Slowly, I lift her hand, pressing my lips to her knuckles. Her breath catches. "One more night. Just talking. That's all."
She should say no. She should run.
Instead, she whispers: "The east garden. Midnight."
My heart slams against my ribs.
She pulls her hand away and leaves, disappearing into the hallway like a ghost.
I stand there, her scent still in my nose—honey and wildfire—and realize I'm in serious trouble.
Because I'm falling for my brother's mate.
And tomorrow at dawn, I'm supposed to meet the enforcers to report progress on our bet.
The bet I suddenly, desperately, want to cancel.
But when I step into the hallway, I hear voices from the guards' quarters—rough laughter, clinking coins.
"Cassian's definitely making progress. Saw him follow her to the library."
"500 gold says he beds her within the month."
"The ice queen? He'll manage it. Cassian Ironhart never fails to close a deal."
My stomach drops.
I turn the corner and freeze.
Thaddeus stands in the shadows, and from the look on his face, he heard every word.
"Brother," he says coldly. "We need to talk."